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by Temporal
Summary: One day, after seeing Harry's living conditions, Draco gets the well meaning idea to save his classmates from living in the muggle world. Someone should really stop Draco when he's feeling altruistic.
1. Harry's House

****

Save Muggleborns from Idiotic Tyrannical Enormous Muggles

Support SMITEM!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form, 

Summary: One day after seeing Harry's living conditions, Draco gets the well meaning idea to save his classmates from living in the muggle world. Someone should really stop Draco when he's feeling altruistic.

-Sorry about any spelling or grammatical errors, I'm trying my best-

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Harry's House

"Potter, I see no reason why I have to walk your incompetent sixteen year old ass back home. What am I child services?" Draco stepped up on the doorstep.

Harry followed the blonde none too happy with the situation. 

"Malfoy if it were within any scope of my power, you would not be here. You definitely wouldn't be coming inside, and you surely wouldn't be staying the night." 

"What Potter, afraid when your muggles see what a real wizard can do they'll dump you out on the street. Now summon them to the door. The faster this is over the faster I can seek professional Oblivation." Harry sighed shaking his head and rung the doorbell. 

Draco watch as an obviously irate man with beaty eyes peered through a crack in the door. He looked Potter over then dragged them both inside. Once the door was closed again the fat man faced them and started ranting. "Boy what have I told you about coming to the front door. You go through the back. I won't have the neighbors seeing you, that owl, and..." he noticed Draco for the first time and shook more. "What is that?" 

Harry stopped him just as Draco went to tell Vernon off in all his silvery haired Malfoy robed glory. "I will. Draco just isn't used to climbing over fences and I didn't think you wanted him alone at the front door in robes... odd clothing" He made sure not to make eye contact. "There was a problem at the train station, he just has to stay the night, he'll be gone before breakfast."

Vernon looked the blonde wizard up and down. "Can't even have a normal name. I'm not calling it that. You keep it in your room till dinner then you feed it upstairs and then send it away tomorrow. You understand!"

"Come on Malfoy." Harry whispered grabbing Draco by the arm and dragging him towards the stairs. "Don't say anything just move." He pleaded.

Harry could see smoke raising from Draco's ears as he shut the bedroom door behind him. "It! It! That fat sub-squib wants me incarcerated in this shabby excuse for a beat up shack and he thinks I'll stay in this," he spun around taking in the new bars, "barely furnished prison cell. I refuse." He turned to Harry. "I'm staying in your room Potter. You're the golden boy hero after all. It has to be much better than this" he shook his arms, "muggle garbage heap." 

"Malfoy." Harry just hoped he didn't shout any louder.

"What Potter?"

"This is my room Malfoy. "

"That's impossible."

"You don't believe me? The one next door in my cousin Dudley's. It's full of muggle technology and...him. This is were I sleep, it's a step up from before, be happy Vernon didn't have us go to the... never mind."

"The what?"

"It's not important." Harry tried to recover from his slip. "Dinner won't be for at least two more hours. " He pulled a book from his pack. "I'm studying till then, do what you want." 

"Studying a hour into break. Planning to become Granger are you? Going to start raising your hand franticly and asking unnecessary questions next?"

Harry took out two more books. "I just want to get some stuff done while there's still time." 

"Still time?" Draco stared at him hard. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing. Whatever you do just make sure you're quite."

"You can't tell me what to..."

"BOY." Uncle Vernon's bellow came through the closed door. "Get down here. You're earning your keep. Make dinner and leave the other one up there. Lock the door behind you."

"Earn you keep, dinner? You're not his house elf. He can't make you do anything. Wait, what does he mean lock the door behind you, I'm still in here."

"Draco, just study or something. I'll bring you some food when it's ready. Believe me ' the locks are for you own protection'." He said it like he was quoting it. "Just don't make too much noise."

Harry stopped him before he could object with a quiet voice. "No really Draco just don't make too much noise." and he heard the sound of locks snapping into place.

Draco was snapped out of his quidditch magazines by a reasonable pleasant smell of meat cooking and a loud crash. He heard voices muffled at first then louder. "WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT WATCHING THE STOVE. " followed by several hard to describe thuds and silence. He was just getting through a live action replay on page 18 when the door crashed open. The Muggle was back with Potter by the collar of a huge ratty shirt and with no dinner. "You boy stay in here till we're finished eating. You upset Petunia." Vernon looked over "And you..." He trailed off as he saw the wizarding magazines Draco had laid out. 

"No." He picked up a magazine like it was poisonous. "I will not have you looking at_ those_ in my home." He looked frantic. "Leave them." He grabbed Draco's sleeve by the other hand.

"Get your hands off me!" Draco growled.

Vernon let go of Harry as he opened the cupboard door and pushed them both in. "You keep it from doing anymore abnormalities. If I hear anything I'm throwing you both in the tool shed boy. " The door slammed shut and Draco swore he head five locks thrown. He watched as Potter sighed and calmly reached for the light pull. "Congratulations Draco, we'll be lucky if we get any food now." Draco was about to comment when he got his first good look at Harry's face. "What happened to you Potter?" 

"Waffle iron...don't ask."


	2. Malfoy in Motion

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Malfoy in Motion

The next morning, after a night of spiders, cramped spaces, and Potter, Draco got into his family car.

"Draco my boy, I hope your nights stay with _them_ wasn't too horrifying. " Lucius said in distaste.

"I'm never going back there again. No wizard should EVER have to live like that."

"That is one of the many reasons we're getting rid of them."

"They have it coming." Draco replies coolly and then paused. "But what about the mudbloods? They have to live like that all the time."

"They're mostly muggle themselves, they can't tell the difference."

"They just accept that as normal? Stupid clothing, lack of food, living in a shack?" Draco frowned.

"Of course, they've never been raised by a proper family. They wouldn't understand that their lives are barbaric, feeble or lacking."

"They need desperately to be informed." Lucius gave a low chuckle.

"They would never believe it if they were simply told. If they would, they'd be on our side. It would take months of deprogramming for them to realize the horror of their lives. Our Lord has no time for that."

Draco thought silently _but perhaps I do._

Back at the Manor, Draco began drafting his letter. He needed it to have the proper tone. For once he was speaking the whole-unedited truth and that had to be written differently than well-constructed duplicity. He was writing to Slytherin to show how wrong they were about the muggleborns and to Gryffindor because they were always up for charging in to save the day. Ravenclaw wouldn't take an active roll yet. He might need them later when he made a case against muggle families in wizards' court. Hufflepuff, he'd decided was entirely too squeamish for any part in the first or last phase.

****

Slytherins and Gryffindors,

Right now your muggleborn classmates are living in shacks with so called 'family' that hates them. They're being beaten with muggle 'waffle irons', locked in closets and left in tool sheds. They're starved, abused, degraded and are treated not better than house elves – they're made to dress like them as well. No wizard should be treated this ways. It has to be stopped. Yes I hate muggles, but my views on muggleborns have changed. I realize now, they just don't know any better. They don't realize how life should properly be lived. Not to mention they're helpless in their homes with the underage magic restrictions. Because of this I'm founding SMITEM (Save Muggleborns from Idiotic Tyrannical Enormous Muggles). It has to stop and the only why I can do it is with your help. Don't tell any adults they'll most likely try to stop us. Enclosed are a SMITEM badge and charmed directions to our first meeting location. Fire me tomorrow night if you have any questions.  


Draconis Lucius Malfoy

President and Founder of SMITEM 

Draco silently thanked the house wards and spelled the letter to duplicate and address themselves They'd start with Hogwarts muggleborns and branch out to other schools as SMITEM gained support. He headed for the family owlery.


	3. Ron Replies

****

Ron Replies

Ron stared at the letter for ten minutes holding the silver and red SMITEM badge is shock. Malfoy couldn't be serious. The muggleborn students were happy. Sure Harry came back a little worse for wear but even his family couldn't be that bad, right? Hermione always came back fine and her parents weren't enormous muggles either. First he thought about just ignoring the letter, but then decided now was the perfect time to tell Malfoy off before this went too far. He started up the fire and shouted "Draconis Malfoy" and within seconds Malfoy's head appeared in the fire.

"Hello Weasley, so happy to see you'll be joining the organization." he smiled winningly.

"Are you out of your mind Malfoy? This can't possibly be true. We'd know about it if it was." Ron reasoned

"That's were you're wrong Weasley. The muggleborns don't talk about it, they think it's normal." he sounded serious.

"No that can't even be right. Hermione's stayed with us over summer. She would've said something when she didn't see any of us being locked in closets!"

"Weasley, your family couldn't afford enough closets to put you all in. She just didn't want to offend you by saying anything. But I digress; they do all that to Potter and he's famous. I'd say owl him yourself but I'd bet gallons he's still locked under the staircase."

"I'm not taking your word for anything Malfoy and you know it!"

"Fine, owl Granger. See if she denies it."

"I can't. She doesn't have an owl and ours are all out."

"So you're telling me you have no way of contacting muggleborns over the summer?" Draco snorted. "And you're the one with a Muggle-loving father with muggle-lover objects all over the place. That's truly pathetic."

"Shut up Malfoy. " Ron thought for a moment. "Wait, we've go one thing. Where did I put the number? Ha got it." He said rummaging through a drawer. "Malfoy, stay there while I call Hermione, so I can tell you off before I go to sleep."

"Fine."

Ron carefully hit the numbers on the 'phone' Hermione had suggested they get and after several rings got an answer. 

"Hello?"

"Moine, good I need to talk to you."

"Oh no, this is her mother. I'll go get her." 

A long pause later Hermione's voice appeared. "Ron, Harry?"

"It's Ron."

"Sorry Ron, I was just doing some cleaning and got stuck in the closet. It was an accident really."

"In the closet." Ron said unsure.

"Well it's rather dark. Once the door locks it's hard to get out."

"Why were you there in the first place?"

"Nothing big really I had some cleaning to do... I forgot the vacuum."

He was actually clutching the phone now. "Hermione this is important. I need you to answer the next few questions honestly and not ask me why okay."

"Um... okay Ron." she agreed warily.

"Do you have a waffle iron?"

"Two."

"Do you have a tool shed?"

"Yes."

"_Have you ever been in it?_" he sounded frantic.

"Of course, it seems rather small now, but we mostly use the cellar now so it's not a problem."

"How is the cellar?"

"A little leaky and it has a lot of spiders, but it doesn't bother me too much."

"Bye Mione."

"Ron wait.." as he hung up.

He went running back over to the fire. "We have to do something! They had Mione lock in a closet for forgetting some muggle machine. She says they don't put her in the shed anymore cause she's outgrown it. Now she has to go in a _spider-infested_ leaky cellar." he sounded horrified.

Draco looked at him sympathetically. "Waffle iron?"

"Two."

"Then you'll join?"

Ron's eyes glowed the way only a Gryffindor with a mission's could. "I'm in."


	4. Meeting at the Manor

A/N: Thank you Mystic Queen and MerlinHalliwell. You are my first ever two reviewers *hands out cookies*

posted: 5/23/03

****

Meeting at the Manor

Ron arrived by floo at Malfoy manor two hours later. "Good you're here. Put this on." Draco handed him a new badge. 

"Vice President?"

"Well you were the first to reply, and having a Gryffindor as my right hand will reassure those who simply don't believe my superior judgement."

"I'm VP." Ron couldn't help but smile.

"Glad you have the concept straight Weasley. Now, there's a huge amount of work left to do...help me order the house elves to do it." Draco led Ron to the ballroom.

"Malfoy?"

"Yeah?"

"Aren't your parents going to notice a huge buffet, the SMITEM banner and oh I don't know, a _hundred _kids in their ballroom."

"Of course not."

Ron just stared at him.

"They're taking a world vacation this summer. Father dropped me off and left me in charge of family affairs. There's nothing to worry about."

"What if the house elves tell?"

"Ha. They don't go near Father without direct orders, and Mother would just be happy I held this using proper etiquette. Which reminds me, I must require you to put on your family robes for this occasion." He looked him up and down. "I can't let you in the ballroom looking like that."

"That wasn't in the letter!"

"Don't looks so affronted Weasley. You're a pureblood, just summon them on."

"You know I can't do that. The Ministry would know in a second."

"Not here they won't. You could spell a mountain troll from the ceiling and they wouldn't notice...watch."

Draco pointed his wand at the chandeliers. " Incendio," and the room took on a soft glow. He then looked calmly at Ron as no letters appeared out of thin air.

Ron slumped his shoulders defeated. "Facies Gens," and his cloak covered pajamas transformed into yellow and orange robes. He looked into one of the mirrored walls, noticing how sharp his VP badge looked next to his family crest. "Happy now."

"Immeasurably." Draco turned. "Mott, you idiot elf, I said five courses not three!"

Soon the future of SMITEM began to arrive.

The Banquet went off without a hitch and Draco was quite pleased. True, it had taken an hour to convince the Gryffindors, but once Weasley had harped on about spider infestations and vacuum cleaners they'd been jumping to hex something. Once Potter was mentioned, the younger, female version of all-things-Weasley looked ready to Avada Kedavra the entire muggle world. With the proper mood set, he'd summoned the first course. Several hours later, after an artfully decorated selection of desserts, Draco handed each member an elegantly written itinerary scroll designating the first step:

**Camp Muggleborn **(_read Phase I)_

1. Invitations and Relocation_ (kidnapping)_

2. Adjustment and Personal Attention_ (deprogramming I and isolation)_

3. Grooming and Natural Enchantments (_burning muggle clothing and makeovers)_

4. Etiquette and Social Graces_ (mental reconditioning I and deprogramming II)_

5. Informal Group Chat_ (recording testimony for later court use)_

6. Craft Shop: Family Crest and Colors_ (mental reconditioning II)_

7. Future Shop: Planning a Family Manor (_reprogramming I)_

8. Optional Testing and Evaluations_ (keeping Granger & Ravenclaw from trying to leave)_

9. Ball Prep (_reprogramming II)_

10. Formal Wizarding Ball _(pridefully flaunting a job well done)_

Now they just had to set up an 'invitation' system that wouldn't get them all thrown in Azkaban. Draco did have some help in that area though. Most all of the muggleborns were isolated from each other and their homes were unwarded. A few well sent portkeys should be enough to get most witches and wizards back here, then stunning their muggle families and storing them in the manor dungeons should keep everything running smoothly.

Of course some might have wards and ones like Potter and Granger were too high profile to go missing first. They could get the others silently as long as those two stayed in place for a while. Weasley would work on Granger and that would only leave Potter. Draco had to admit Dumbledore did an impressive job warding him seven ways for Sunday. Right now, they just didn't have enough wizard-power to get Potter out for Phase I. Luckily, this was were the beauty of Draco's plan came in, by the end of Phase I their numbers would be doubled. They'd be able to come up with a suitably elaborate and theatrical (yet still not so evil villianish as to be doomed to immediate failure) plan to rescue the Boy Who Lived and do it all without rounding second with a Dementor.


	5. Pansy and Portkeys

A/N: Thank you to Englishgirl, Jamie, and RaistlinofMetallica (I'm happy it was reattachable =laughter=). *Cupcakes for everyone!*

posted: 5/28/03

****

Pansy and Portkeys

It was impressive to say the least. You would never think it from all the time she spent on hair and makeup charms, but Pansy Parkinson was a portkey genius. In mere hours Pansy had made hundreds of portkeys both for the muggleborns and the 'clean up' squads to avoid apprehension. They were magically undetectable, self-destructed after use, and to top it all off, they masked one specific spell on the carrier's wand. At the look of pure shock on the faces surrounding her, she'd smirked. 

"There's a reason why Parkinsons have always been Slytherins..." examining her nails, "...amongst other things."

More than that, they had worked. The next few hours heard a subtle pattern forming across the countryside.

flap...flap...flap

...hoot...

'oh...what's this...*POP*'

flap...flap...flap

...hoot...

'this must be my...*POP*'

flap...flap...flap

...hoot...

'look Dennis a...*POP*'

'flap...flap...flap...Colin?'

...hoot...

'hello there...*POP*'

Of course it was nothing compared to the scenes that followed.

'Pansy look at this..' *Crash*

__

'..Robbers! I have a shotgun...'

"..shotgun..?"

__

*Bang*

"My hair!...STUPIFY!"

'...Trevor is that you...?'

__

*grrrrrr*

'...good dog...'

__

'What's going on here!'

'Stupify Stupify Stupify...oh...sorry Trevor.'

'Weasley what are you doing?'

__

*ding dong* click

'Pizza Delivery.'

__

'We didn't order a...' 

'Stupify!'

Several near misses, two dog bites, eight pounds and seventy cents later, SMITEM was happily settling in pajama-clad witches and wizards to the manor, and stupefied muggles to the dungeons. 

"Welcome to Camp Muggleborn," Draco announced, "the most important camp of your lives. Orientation starts tomorrow morning and schedules are posted on the wall." 

"Reprogramming..?" he heard a confused whisper.

"Oh... how did that get there. Here's the _real_ schedule." He replied casually, tacking a camper-friendly version up on the wall just before spelling the entire wing of Malfoy Manor shut.

No aurors...no dementors...a dungeon full of muggles...and impressionable minds under his control_._ Draco Malfoy could get used to this whole do-gooder thing...but could it get used to him?


	6. Controlling the Campers

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. *takes cinnamon buns out of oven* I really appreciate them. one crimson tie: Thank you. I just fixed the 'floo' problem. I'll try to fix previous errors with each update.

posted: 6/14/03

****

Controlling the Campers

The next morning, Draco entered the South wing with an army of house elves holding silver platters. "Time for breakfast, everyone line...." He looked around. Barricaded hallways...broken windows...makeshift rope ladders...frantic screaming...and was that an explosion? Draco ran out knocking down house elves in his wake. Touching his wand to his SMITEM badge he shouted, "I don't care what lie you have to tell, get back here right now. We have trouble."

__

"...quidditch...bake sale...water polo...gotta go...bye..."

To say that Draco's plan had hit a slight hiccup would be a major and indescribable understatement. The manor was in chaos. Purebloods were chasing down Muggleborns, Muggleborns were falling through cursed stairwells, house elves were beating back devil's snare and Malfoy Manor was flawlessly exhibiting its highly effective yet thoroughly illegal security systems. At the moment Pansy was firing curses like streamers and Ron was trying to calm a brown-haired kid mid-hysterics.

"Look, I can't let you owl your family...and they are most definitely not in the dungeons! Just stop crying okay, you're safe _here._ It's going to be fun, there'll be games, and crafts and... It's for your own good...just shut up already! Malfoy," Ron looked over "some help here?"

Draco bent down putting on his best concerned expression. He placed a hand on the small shoulder, and looked down paternally at the shaking child. "Now what seems to be the problem?"

The little boy sniffed. "Well, you see..."

"Oblivate!"

"Malfoy!"

"What? It worked didn't it?" He replied looking at the shocked redhead.

"You just wiped out his memory." Ron shook his hand at the dazed kid.

"It's not like he'd want to keep it once he realized what he's been through. He'll probably thank me later." Draco responded proudly.

"Yeah, if he could remember he'd forgotten anything! " Ron looked down at the boy again. "What's your name? What's your house?"

"....."

"Do something Malfoy!"

"What? I don't know how to reverse Oblivate."

"Okay... um... nobody panic," as Ron shifted to 'fast but reckless' mode. "Your name is... Jonathan Hayes... no Horte... you're twelve...sure. Your house is... " He looked pleadingly at Malfoy.

Draco looked 'Jonathan' over. "Vacant expression, bad haircut," he scowled, "choo choo jammies... if he wasn't a Hufflepuff before he has to be one now."

"Fine... You're a Hufflepuff. Um...you like anything orange and..." Ron grumbled. "This is too much work. Look, you have no parents, you have no family, you've lived in Hogsmeade all your life, you're really enjoying camp and you're hungry... go get a sandwich or something...."

As the boy wandered off Draco came up next to Ron. "Oh masterful done Weasley. The professors are really going to enjoy their new quidditch-obsessed second year with an inexplicable love of pumpkin juice and your sister. He'll have no understanding of first-year concepts and, oh I almost forgot, a desperate need for sandwiches."

Ron tried to defend himself. "Ginny can take care of herself and it's not like you learn that much first year anyway."

"Maybe you didn't."

"They'll just think he forgot it all over the summer and... wait a minute. You're the one who oblivated him. I was just doing damage control." he remembered.

Draco shrugged as he made to leave. "Well, if you're so set on 'fixing it all' there are two more over by the fireplace. Go make them twins or something."

"..._okay your name is Kyle... or Kyla ... sorry didn't see the pigtails..._"

After rounding up the wanderers, patching up the mauled, and freeing the rest from cursed footpaths, hellhound, garden ogres, and every manner of invisible, disgruntled, or demented man-eating plant, they were all settled into the ballroom for a little chat. Draco grabbed Ron and headed to the front of the room. "Alright there's a perfectly good and in no way suspicious explanation for why all of you are here. It's so good in fact that none of you will make anymore trouble for the rest of camp. " He said getting the groups attention. "You see...keep eye contact now...Obliv*mmph*..."

Ron turned Draco away from the group, removing his hand from Draco's mouth. "No. I'm not making up life stories for an entire room of people. I don't care what you think...we're doing this some other way."

"Then what do you propose Weasley? We can't tell them the truth, Imperius only last so long, and Cruciatus****can get very messy."

Ron mentally took stock of the situation and the pieces he had to work with. "Okay, I can handle Ravenclaw...I know how they think."

"Really..." Draco got ready for a long commentary.

"Shut up Malfoy," still thinking through the others. "We need to get Gryffindor in a room with Ginny for an hour... It'll be best if she breaks down on her own. That only leaves..."

"I can handle Hufflepuff." Draco said, but sighed after seeing Ron's face. "Fine, without hexes."

"Hope so..." he mumbled before facing the crowd. "Okay, Hufflepuff follow Malfoy, Gryffindor go to the drawing room with Ginny, Ravenclaw follow me to the libraries and we'll explain everything."

Draco led Hufflepuff towards the owlery. "I'll explain about camp soon but I know you're all worried about your parents. I thought it best to let you owl home first." He started handing out supplies. "That's right, perfectly good parchment, high-quality quills and ink. Go on now, write whatever your heart desires to your beloved families. Mind you they already know you're here...and writing home after the first night does seem...well horribly childish. The others will be calling you crybabies behind your backs. But then I suppose that doesn't bother Hufflepuffs does it. You get that all the time at Hogwarts. You must be hardened to being called push-overs by now...oh and people saying you couldn't clasp your robes without assistance...but that's unimportant." He looked over the group. "Shall I leave you alone to it? I don't want to disturb you while you're writing. I for one respect your...delicate composures." Draco said in a very mater-of-fact tone.

Hufflepuff looked at their parchment and then at each other, after a long moment an older boy spoke up. "No... no, I think we're fine." He steeled himself. "In fact, we don't need to write back right now...they...they know we're alright." He started to gain momentum. "In fact we can go days!" He saw Draco shaking his head. "Weeks! We can go weeks without writing home. We can go longer than Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Let's see who breaks first! They'll never call us crybabies again!" As other voice joined in agreement.

Draco looked at them all with an innocent expression. "So you don't want to use the owlery then?" he asked softly.

"NO!" Parchment and writing equipment came flying back into his arms.

"Then I could always address your fears about staying at the big scary camp for the summer? Seeing as you hated being alone in the dark so much...without mum and dad to protect you." He suggested helpfully.

"We're fine!" They shouted. "We love camp!"

Draco shuffled his feet, clutching the pile of parchment to him for effect. "In that case, I'll just go put these back then..." he said quietly, leaving a highly determined and self-assured Hufflepuff house behind him.

Ron waited till every Ravenclaw was comfortably seated at a table or leather chair before beginning. During the long walk he reviewed every academic thing Hermione Granger had ever said to him. He knew that Ravenclaw respected her study habits even when everyone else thought she was crazy. He knew Ravenclaw, like Hermione, had an absolute fear of academic failure...and now he would use that to his advantage. He cleared his throat, steeled himself, and started a lecture Snape would be proud of.

"As you know academics are extremely important...you might even say crucial." He saw every head turn towards him. "Most important is testing. How else would they determine your academic capacities. If it weren't for testing the entire system would fall in on itself." He ran a hand over the nearest self, pulling a book at random and skimming through it. "That's why you're here really...testing."

One Ravenclaw raised her hand. "But the schedule said the testing was optional," stating known fact for the group.

"Oh, they are, but those aren't the test I'm talking about." Ron felt the first hint of _panic_ in the air. All eyes were glued to him waiting for him to explain.

"Now 7th years you have the NEWTs coming up and while I'm sure you all did...fine...on your OWLs, can you really be sure those prepared you? The NEWTs aren't just textbook and classroom knowledge. They're strongly bias on wizarding culture. Things that wizards growing up in the magical world would naturally know and even take for granted. Sure all of you could transfigure a cloak into formal dress robes, but how many could transfigure them for a arranged-marriage ball at the Delater estate. They asked that ten years ago and similar questions since." He said casually. "You just don't have the wizarding knowledge to keep up. One slightly obscure question with a high point value could destroy your chances at a good apprenticeship or university...your entire academic record completely ruined." Their faces paled_. That's right._ Ron thought. _Keep listening to the redhead._

"In fact I've heard rumors that if you don't perform well enough on your NEWTs you don't graduate at all. They revoke your wand, and send you back home...in your cases the muggle world. I mean how many muggleborns have you actually talked to since they 'graduated' anyway? You'd have no more magic and...well considering you'd spent the last seven years getting a wizarding education you really wouldn't be fit to graduate from muggle school would you? You'd have to start all over again." He said thoughtfully. "It must be hard being seventeen, taking courses a thirteen year old passed ages ago...but then you're all fast learners." The dead silence was punctuated only by the lack of breathing.

"...please stop..." came a desperate whisper.

"Sorry, got off track for a moment. Now back to why you're here. It's not fair that you don't know about wizarding culture, it puts you at an unfair disadvantage. We brought you to Camp Muggleborn to get you up to speed. If you don't cause any more trouble we may have just enough time to get you ready. The 7th years need this now, but it can't hurt the rest of you to have a basis to build on. After all," he smiled with what he thought was a mad gleam in his eyes, Ravenclaw seemed to find it reassuring. "You can never start studying too early!"

He walked towards the door. "Now you all know the schedule, I suggest you consider it a syllabus, start getting some reference materials together so you aren't ill-prepared for classes. The Malfoy libraries are probably the best reference you'll ever find to" he muttered, "stuffy, antiquated, backstabbing," he cleared his throat, "wizarding culture and etiquette." As he walked out he heard the sudden rush of feet and the frantic rustling of bound pages. _Well, that went well._

"Guys just calm down. I can't tell you alright." Ginny said with her house surrounding her, throwing accusations. They'd been at it for nearly an hour and didn't seem near stopping any time soon.

"Malfoy's sending us to the Dark Lord."

"You're under Imperius, I know it!"

"Not a problem, we get all the other Gryffindors and we storm out all at once."

"We knock Malfoy unconscious on the way."

"Can we do that twice?"

Gryffindor was already searching the room for weapons and considering escape routes. Ginny was spinning around trying to get them to listen to her. She couldn't take it anymore. "STOP!" They froze mid-arming. She got up on a highly polished wooden table, finally drawing everyone's attention. "That's not true! Malfoy's not sending anyone to anybody. " She sounded panicked. "You have to stay or we can't save Harry from V..." Her eyes went wide and she clamped her hand over her mouth. "Never mind."

The noise level doubled.

"What do you mean save Harry?"

"Is he in trouble...what happened?"

"Tell us now!"

Ginny already at the end of her nerves gave in. She sighed and gathered the others closer as she whispered. "Harry is locked up...and he can't get himself out...and Dumbledore and the others aren't doing anything. He's not being feed...and it's probably dark. Even Malfoy couldn't stand seeing him like that, and he's Deatheater spawn." Anger now tinted her voice. "Just because Harry's special, not to mention far more powerful than _him_. Thinks he can break The Boy Who Lived of his 'abnormality'. If it were up to him, Harry would never see the magical world again. Just rot in that...place...and with those horrible people." She stomped her feet on the table...leaving horrible scuff marks. Her voice rose higher as her back straightened and she started in on a battle speech any Gryffindor would stand behind. "Well we're not going to let him! We can't get him now, but once this..." she waved her arms, "...is finished, we'll be strong enough to take him...blood warding and all. We'll show him what we're made of muggleborn, pureblood or otherwise. We're preparing for battle, we're saving Harry, and we're making sure that beady-eyed, pasty-faced, magicist tyrant never lays a hand on our Harry again!" Ginny screamed, face a bright red that put her hair to shame. She looked around at the silent faces below her. Gryffindor stared back ready for orders.

"So what do we do?"

Ginny smoothed her hair, composed herself, and then checked the time. "First...we have lunch." 


	7. Housing and Hexes

A/N: Classes are over ::scream of joy:: Thank you everyone! You're all amazing and fabulous people. Thank you for encouraging me. Godiva, Cataclysmic, Dragenphly, Reigh Evenstar, TheSunAndTheMoon, Azalea, RaistlinofMetallica, Harmoni, Zekkers, Isadora, danceingfae

fyre - (wow, that's the largest review I've ever seen) you called me on the teachers. I'm so happy! It's a while coming, but it will come.

Narcissa - nothing like opening reviews to see Draco's mother agreeing he shouldn't do good. I nearly choked on my sandwich

(To reviewers I've missed, don't think you don't get feed too!)

:: hears kitchen timer:: The coffeecake's ready! I'll be right back with plates and forks.

posted: 7/23/03
****

Housing and Hexes

In their thousands of years on the Malfoy estate, it's house elves had never done as much manual labor as they did that one day. In less than eight hours the South Wing had been transformed into a world-class luxury hotel. Every newly renovated suite was tastefully decorated in the most opulent manner. The attached bathrooms held deep bath pools, and the campers' common room was as large as the Dursley's first floor...not that that was saying much. Adding to it all, the house elves left a chocolate frog waiting on each camper's pillow. By the time everyone had enjoyed an 'informal' dinner of multiple courses, enchanted instruments, and an ice hippogriff sculpture, there was no sign the South Wing had been a charred, smoking pile of irreplaceable rubble at sunrise.

To the newly settled campers things seemed perfect, good food, no adults, there had even been a casual quidditch game after lunch. That night they settled into their rooms eager and optimistic about their summer at camp. What they didn't realize was their wing was covered in upper level dark hexes, barred from the outside, and SMITEM was seated around an enormous viewing sphere, holding clipboards, and monitoring their every action.

"Weasley, stop hogging the popcorn. I know you have to fight for food like animals at your shack, but in civilized society one takes a portion and then passing the bowl." Draco said grabbing it out of Ron's hands.

"Yeah sure, just shut up and keep taking notes on them all." He said pointing at viewing sphere. "Neville did you get the rest sorted out?" Ron asked over his shoulder.

"Mostly. I've got the familiars in the menagerie, they've calmed down a bit. But I need help with the wands; I've been knocked out twice sorting them. Some cores get really volatile at close proximity. I could use help."

"You'll get some tomorrow." Draco glanced up at the sphere again. "I wish they'd stop fidgeting. They have nothing to be uncomfortable about."

"Well the rooms are kind of frilly and expensive looking. Maybe we should have made those more normal." Ron watched critically as a camper cautiously pulled back a nineteenth-century embroidered duvet.

"Nonsense. They've been deprived all their lives. It's time they got something above board."

"I agree," Pansy said as a house elf poured her more pumpkin juice. "I just don't see why we put those chocolate frogs on the pillows. They clash horribly with the decor."

"They do it at muggle hotels. It makes the guest feel cared about." Ginny replied helpfully.

"Really? That explains why they're all taking to it so well." He watched the last hold out open his package. "I just put them there to insure regular doses of the mind control potion."

Ron sprayed pumpkin juice all over nearby members. "You put mind control potion in the candy!"

"Well not all the potion. It's more the two-part kind. One in dinner, one in the chocolate frogs." Draco said casually.

"Wait...in dinner? How did you keep us from getting any? We all ate the same stuff."

"I didn't. Everyone got an equal portion of the first part and will keep getting it for that matter. It 's harmless unless you start eating the frogs."

"Draco." They heard Crabbe say from the side of the room. "I ate...ah...three frogs."

After a short silence, Draco spoke. "Three, really." He smirked. "Tap-dance for us."

After two minutes of being scarred for life, Ron called Crabbe's rendition of the Sea Squid Shuffle to a screeching halt. "For Merlin's sake never do that again."

"Oh and before any of you take up the role of 'off-put Gryffindor', that level of command only comes with three frogs or more. The one will just...encourage them… to take on more reasonable beliefs."

"What are those exactly?" Ron said suspiciously.

"Well, I'm having the house elves leave pamphlets for them to look through each night." Draco rifled through his notes. "Tonight was _Muggle crafts, useless compared to magic_ and_ The Dark Arts, a valid lifestyle choice._" He scanned his list. "Oh good, _Mass Mugglecide, not as amoral as you may think_ is this week. I was hoping we'd get to that soon."

Ron just stared at him in awe. "We're drugging muggleborns and encouraging them to believe that dark magic and mugglecide are good things." He paused. "Why am I following you? You're insane!"

"Now just hear me out. We have to start reconditioning them somehow, and this is much gentler than the interrogation-torture-sleep deprivation methods I looked through to begin with...and less labor intensive." He smiled. "Besides, only the ones who are really good at the dark arts will turn to them anyway and we know _those_ won't go back to the muggle world. Also, think how much simpler life would be with all the muggles gone...oh fine, subdued if you're that squeamish. Really, just read through these." He said, handing out random pamphlets to Gryffindor members. "Try making a valid argument against it all after you've seen the facts. I believe you'll find them hard to disagree with." Ron shook his head as he skimmed through the pages.

The monitoring session went on for another hour including a discussion of possible field trips and the need for SMITEMs members to make long-term plans to stay through at the manor.

"Oh, one last note," Draco announced with everyone moving towards the doorway. "As we all know, every effective organization runs on manipulating its members through bribery..."

"No they don't. Hogwarts doesn't. Dumbledore would never…" Ginny started.

*cough* "lemon drop" *cough* came from somewhere near the back.

"As I was saying, proper bribery is the staple of any good organization and now is an excellent time to start. This week everyone gets a watch." He handed each an elegant, yet not too noticeable timepiece. Each was shaped differently, some pocketwatches, some wristwatches, and some altogether different. "They're actually quite useful as well." Each member looked down to study theirs. The clocks had several hands: Campers, Families, G, P, and a red or silver hand for each member of SMITEM. It's face read: Manor, Danger, Mortal Peril, Field Trip, Muggle World, Imprisoned, Manual Labor, and Great Distress. Once each member put theirs on, Draco dismissed the group. 

Later that night Ron and Draco were figuring out the activities schedule when Ron stopped, frowning.

"Malfoy, since when are the muggles stuck between Great Distress and Mortal Peril? Last time I checked they were only Imprisoned."

"They shouldn't be, I put Vince and Greg down there on guard duty. They may be a little wand-happy, but they won't do anything without orders. Besides your sister went down to take them some sandwiches, those two can't hex and eat at the same time." Draco explained.

"Wait, you left Ginny alone down there with Crabbe and Golye!"

"It's not like they'll hurt her. We're all on the same side after all."

"I'm not worried about her. Come on." Ron ran for the dungeons with a curious Draco giving chase.

It was dark, cold, and exactly as creepy as dungeon building etiquette required. They rounded the last corner to flashes of light and the voice of a redheaded Weasley girl.

"Good, but there's got to be a stronger hex in here somewhere!"

A satisfied mumble proceeded more flashing light, and a convulsing sound.

"That'll show you wizard abusing muggles. Are you happy now?" Ginny yelled light still streaming from her wand, Crabbe and Golye seemed content to watch, enjoying their sandwiches in the background. She looked up lowering her wand and closing one of Malfoy's pamphlets with her other hand. "Oh, hi Ron, Malfoy, we were just torturing _horrible people._" She yelled at the cowering muggles. "Want to help?"

Draco's hand went to his wand just as Ron broke in. "No! Ginny stop, this is all wrong."

"He's right." Draco nodded. "You should hold your wand at more of a 45 degree angle after you swish." He took _Horrific Hexes, a beginner's guide to causing pain beyond measure_ out of her hand and flipped through it. "See it's right here in the diagram on page four. They'll spasm far more that way." He looked over at Ron. "What? I'm being helpful. The girl has a natural talent for muggle torture, it just needs some refinement."

"That's it. I'm not letting a Malfoy give my sister lessons in muggle torture. You're all coming with me. Tomorrow we'lldeal with the lot of them so this can't happen again. For right now though, we're going back upstairs where no one can hex muggles. In fact no more muggle hexing at all…" He paused, distracted as his watch swung the G and P hands to Great Distress and Manual Labor. "Except for the Grangers and Dursleys... who most definitely have it coming!" His expression turned dark. "Give me that pamphlet." He growled yanking it out of Draco's hands, and skimmed through muttering as they climbed the stairs. 

****


	8. Wards and Wardrobing

A/N: I'm sorry about the amazingly long delay. Between homework, class stress, and a horrible case of writer's block, it took a while to get back on track. I appreciate the encouragement, yelling, and general cursing of my name in the meantime. 

Posted: 12/06/03

To answer some questions: 

1. This story is general/humor and I'm a quirky person. The characters will get OOC every so often and events may become unbelievable. I apologize to anyone who will be driven crazy by this fact. I'll try to keep things kind of grounded.

2. In the last chapter Ginny was cursing the muggles in the dungeons. 

3. I'm making the assumption that Slytherin has no muggleborn students because Salazar prevented the hat from allowing them in. 

4. SMITEM has only 'rescued' students living in muggle families. That would include muggleborns and eventually Harry. Draco would believe that halfbloods living in a partially wizarding home would be safe (I'm assuming Draco hasn't taken Tom Riddle's situation into account.) This means halfblood students are still wandering around the wizarding world as if nothing has happened.

5. This probably won't get romantic in either the het or slash ways. This is my first fic, and I'm not a strong enough writer yet to work on a general plotline and character romances. I admit it, I can't chew gum and walk at the same time. However I am making the assumptions that Ron worries deeply about Hermione's safety, and that Ginny feels the same way about Harry's.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. Double chocolate cake is in the kitchen.

****

Wards and Wardrobing

It was a simple plan. In the next few days SMITEMs members would make excuses to their families, leaving them free to spend the summer at Malfoy Manor. Draco would keep the campers in line until they got back. As of 5:00am that next morning, it was going quite well, or it was until Ron stormed in, robes wrinkled, hair sticking up.

"Malfoy!"

Minutes later a half-awake, Draco Malfoy trudged into the foyer. "Weasley what time is it, and what are you doing here? " He yawned. "You're suppose to be giving your overly large family a valid excuse so you can stay here the summer... you shouldn't be back for days." Draco took in Ron's appearance. 

"Did you sleep in those robes?" He frowned.

"It can't go on any longer!" Ron waved his watch in the air and began pacing. "I've been watching this all night and it never stops!" 

"What are you on about?" Draco asked.

"First she was in Great Distress, then she was in Danger, then she was in the Muggle World... fine. But wait, then she spent hours doing Manual Labor…and then she was at the Manor! Actually I think I dosed off at that point, but what I trying to say is: I refuse to let her stay there any longer!"

"Who?" 

Ron looked at Draco like he was slow. "Hermione. We have to get her out now!"

"You do remember that her house is warded right? No portkeys can be used, no spells fired, you couldn't even drag her out if you tried. You can't just storm in there and get her."

"Which is the only reason why I'm here instead of unconscious on her front yard." Ron's pacing became frantic, "but I've got it all planned out now though. It's going to work perfectly too." He stared at Draco."I need parchment, a quill, and your signature."

"You need sleep, a restraining order, and…my signature?"

"It's absolutely necessary, and it's not going to be bad or anything. It's just that she won't believe me if I say it and this will get her riled up enough to..." Ron continued on.

Draco's head was starting to hurt. Before Ron could finish, Draco yelled at a house elf for a quill and parchment, scribbled tiredly on it, then held it out to Ron. "Here Weasley, just take it, stop pacing, and…don't speak." Draco grumbled, before heading back to bed. 

Ron grabbed the quill and parchment and headed for the manor's main library. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't be searching dusty tomes of ancient pureblood law and history, but desperate times called for desperate measures. This had to sound convincing for Hermione, that and he needed official family crest designs. Three hours later the research had paid off in the form of two pages of coercion some would call a letter. Ron looked over his work with pride and wondered what NEWTS one needed for a career in forgery. Spelling the Malfoy family crest on the back he headed for the owlery.

Ron was quite pleased with himself as he headed into breakfast that morning to give Draco the wonderful news. "It's sent, once she sees it she'll come running to..." He got his first good look at the tables of muggleborns.

"…oh dear god…"

Draco smiled. "Amazing isn't it. I left basic robes for them to change into this morning. They're cleaning up nicely so far. I figured I'd get the Natural Enchantment classes out of the way before everyone got back. Even with you suddenly appearing out of nowhere, I still plan to get a lot done. Today will be personal care and hair styling, and tomorrow will be dedicated to attire and fashion training."

Ron lowered himself into a chair, still taking in the kidnapped muggleborns. "They're all..." he said in shock, "how did they get lobster red?"

"I'm still deciding what to do with their hair. Whatever it is though, it starts with trimming charms all around. It's painfully obvious the muggle approach to split ends is both barbaric and primitive. Perhaps deep conditioning as well." Draco said thoughtfully.

"You do realize that their skin's _lobster red_, right?" Ron interrupted.

"It will wear of in an hour or so. I had the house elves give them proper baths this morning, you know extra heat, deep exfoliation spells to remove damaged skin. The average loss was four skin layers. The Ravenclaws lost more due to all the ink staining. Of course several campers reacted badly to the scouring phase near the end. Those are the ones that really stand out from the crowd… and it's not so much lobster red, as a bright scarlet really. 

But don't worry, they'll adjust to proper baths in a few days. The elves will make sure the campers take one every morning while they're here. All the muggle pollution in their systems is taking years off their lives, doubt any of them would live to a one hundred at this rate. It truly has to be removed."

"Only one hundred?" Ron looked horrified. "Okay, so they're _lobster _red for health reasons." He turned back to Draco. "But that doesn't change the fact that so far you've tried to Oblivate them, feed them drugged candy, and will probably have maimed them by dinner."

"Weasley, I'm hurt." Draco said frowning. "Everything I've done has been purely for their own good. Besides, it's not like I'm planning to shackle them to the walls... that would be entirely impractical. They'll be fine. If you're so concerned about their safety, come and watch." Draco looked Ron over. "Actually, as president of this organization and someone who has to look at you on a daily basis, I'm ordering you to watch. If I can save one pureblood Gryffindor from looking like you do...especially right now, I'll have done my service to humanity."

"There's nothing wrong with me." Ron protested.

"Ignorance has never been an excuse." Draco shook his head and announced class starting in ten minutes.

Ron looked around as Draco led them all into the Natural Enchantments 'classroom'. Obviously Draco's idea of a classroom ran well into his idea of an expensive day spa. Draco paused to rotated an end table of fashion magazines and finger food six degrees to the left, and strided to the front.

"Welcome to the first day of Natural Enchantments, a course entirely for your benefit. We'll be dedicating today to resurfacing, rehydration, conditioning, hair styling, and getting you to understand the words 'daily maintenance regiment'. Tomorrow will be correcting your bad habits and misunderstandings, and then you'll head straight into wizarding fashion and tailoring. Take your seats." 

Reddened, sensitive campers cautiously sunk into comfortable chairs and loveseats. "Good. Tonight you'll find new sleepwear in your rooms. The robes your wearing now will be standard until you've gained fashion training. You will never see what you were wearing before ever again. They were all incredibly tacky…" Draco smiled to himself, "and satisfyingly flammable." 

As class began, Ron sat in the back with his arms crossed. He waited expectantly for Draco to put the students through something more scarring than two rounds of shampooing, a hot oil conditioning, mineral facemasks, and an in-depth introduction to clarifying potions. After the second round of eye cucumber treatments Ron started zoning out...until Draco hit him with several 'entirely unintentional, accidentally misfired' grooming spells. The redhead scowled at the Malfoy heir through his newly split-end free hair, trying to get the radiant glow off his more evenly-toned skin.

It went on like this after lunch when Draco proceeded to cut, sleak-eazy, and style the campers hair beyond all recognition. Just after the second hour, when Draco had the muggleborns painstakingly recording hair styling procedure, Ron threw up his hands and walked out in defeat. It took effort, but he accepted that Draco wasn't going to Imperious the muggleborns or _actually_ exfoliate them to death. 

The next morning after breakfast, Draco led the muggleborns away to class and Ron let him. Draco hadn't harmed them yesterday, and 'correcting misunderstandings' sounded like it would be all lecture anyway. During the previous night Ron had figured out a way to keep anymore enthusiastic SMITEM members, especially his sister, from hexing the imprisoned muggles in the dungeons. It was mostly the out of sight, out of mind approach, and he planned to take care of it as soon as he finished his toast.

"_Pertificus Totalus_ …_ Wingardium Leviosa_"

Ron floated the last of the frozen muggles into the largest holding cell in the dungeon. Sure that every one was accounted for, Ron spelled an illusionary wall in front of it, making the cell disappear from view. 

"Good idea Weasley. They were starting to get mangy and there was no way I was going to feed or clean up after them. Was there room left for Potter's and Granger's muggles in there?"

"Maybe if we stacked them." Ron said absently before he fully registered who was behind him. "Malfoy? Why aren't you upstairs? You're suppose to be working through the muggleborns bad fashion habits." Ron said confused.

"Actually, I was only doing the first day of class: fixing what muggle life had done to them." He responded. "Day two: breaking old habits, fashion training, personal tailoring, that's up to their new instructor." Draco commented.

"Who's that?"

"Pansy."

The classroom door crashed shut to the threatening sound of complex locking mechanisms falling into place. The campers watched in confusion as Pansy Parkinson stalked to the front, still in her travel cloak, followed by a house elf carrying assorted texts and an oddly marked bowl. As the elf settled it's load on the front table, Pansy spun to face her audience.

"Welcome to your second day of Natural Enhancements. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be incapable of making any of the fashion mistakes you're obviously made in the past. The level of incompetence you've exhibited to this point can only mean you've been mislead since birth." She stared down the room. "I was unable to do anything about it before...what with the constant presence of teachers, parents, and ministry officials, but now I have the chance to fix it all." Her eyes flashed. "Breaking you will of course come first. Rebuilding you will come... much later." 

"Malfoy's coming back in soon right… or Ron? Ron would be good."

"No Gryffindor can help you now Creevey." Pansy said darkly, snapping her head to the side. "Mitsy, cut the lights!" 

__

Panic rose as the campers noticed their new inability to blink.

"Now, down to business. With some help from my personal pensieve, I've cataloged every mistake I've seen a muggleborn make since I started at Hogwarts. This morning we'll go through those six years of repressed memories until you begin to understand the pain you've caused me… as well as the damage you've done to yourselves." She pointed her wand at the pensieve on the table. "I've made sure you can't close your eyes to the horrors you're about to see. Also as a side note, any fidgeting, unnecessary interruptions, or attempting to remove your restraints, will be met with disciplinary action. Let's begin."

An image appeared on the front wall, showing a girl in muggle clothes heading for the Hogwarts Express.

"Now do you think what she's wearing matches?" Pansy said in a curious tone. When she heard no reply from her chain-bound students she continued. "Don't be afraid, I just want an honest answer."

__

"yes?" *ZAP* "……Ahh!" 

"Hardly! Now let's try again...."

Ron had been trying to get through the classroom door for an hour. He'd tried pushing, pulling, knocking, swearing, kicking, hexing...begging. His latest attempt involved loudly insulting its heritage... the manor's fifteenth century handcarved oak door had responded badly. He was still checking for internal injuries when Pansy opened the door and brought her shaky, stumbling students into the hallway.

"Parkinson, undo whatever you did to them, right now!"

"Absolutely not, stopping their fashion training now would only cause more damage. There's no going back Weasley, the only way through is forward." She said with confidence. "Go ahead and console them if you feel you have to. Just remember to keep them away from garish patterns and mismatched colors, their minds haven't worked through the negative reinforcements yet," then left.

Halfway through lunch, Ron led the still shaky campers to their seats. Seeing they'd settled into their meal, he grabbed Pansy and Draco, and pulled them into the drawing room, locking the door behind him.

"Parkinson, you shouldn't even be here right now! Go back home, finish lying to your parents already!"

"My parents are traveling the world this summer Weasley. Even if they weren't, being at Malfoy manor has always been acceptable." 

Ron started to look suspicious. "Traveling the world, just like Malfoy's parents? They're probably all at some big deatheater's ... "

"It's really nothing you should be concerned with," she said quickly. "After all their being away serves the greater good now doesn't it." 

"Okay, whatever. The important thing is I talked to the muggleborns and Parkinson tried to kill them! She hexed them, threatened them, and made them answer questions while restrained!"

Pansy scoffed. "I prefer corrected them, encouraged them, and successfully held their attention."

"I have written testimonies!" Ron yelled, waving a clipboard. "You treated them for wizarding color blindness. You can't _prove_ that outside of St. Mungos!" Ron mumbled through the list until, "You threatened to make them run something called 'the gauntlet of garments' this afternoon, which supposedly included fire and spiked pits. You do remember that gauntletry was made illegal in 1827!"

Draco walked up behind Ron, looking over his shoulder. "Well, they say personal discomfort is an excellent tool for knowledge retention."

"You're not helping Malfoy. They would have been maimed!"

"Really Weasley, I'd have healed the deeper wounds. I wouldn't have left them scarred for life."

"What were they going to learn this afternoon Malfoy?" Ron growled.

"The last part of the course: fashion and tailoring. You know giving them a sense of style, and then tailoring their robes to it." 

"I'm taking that then." Ron announced

"You are not!" Pansy shrieked in horror. "You know nothing about fashion!"

"I know plenty about fashion... I just choose not to use any of it!"

"That explains how your mother gets you in those hideous jumpers." Pansy sneered.

"You leave my mother out of this! Besides I... I outrank you!" Ron shouted searching for a last ditch defense. "As vice president, I'm taking them away from you." He turned to glare at Draco. "And no one is stopping me!"

After several moments of silence Draco spoke up. 

"Fine Weasley, take the class. But if they aren't wearing highly-tailored, _respectable_ robes by dinner, Pansy gets them back…" Draco's eyes lit up, "… and she gets you too."

Ron looked at the Slytherins defiantly. "Done."

It was an interesting afternoon. After light psychological counseling and some trust exercises, Ron had calmed the campers down enough to talk about fashion.

"Okay, well there are a lot of different fabrics and cuts, and rules about wearing them. You're never suppose to wear dragon's hide on Wednesdays, or if your going to a wedding…well unless you train dragons and then only if it's on boots with silver clasps …" 

Ron looked up at his utterly confused audience. "Or I could start at the beginning, that would be good too." He cleared his throat. "Okay, all of you stick out in the wizarding world like sore thumbs, even in school robes. It's mostly because you don't understand the five criteria of wizarding wear: lineage, birth order, age, magical ability, and career." He watched several Ravenclaws take down his words. 

"Since you're muggleborns lineage won't count, but your birth order does, and it should be counted by your first magical sibling. The higher the birth order, the more decoration should be on your robes, none of the rules have really changed in centuries. Age will determine tailoring. The older you age, the more tailored your robes should be, at least till you reach a hundred and ten, then all the fashion rule go out the window. Magical ability will determine how intense the colors you wear are and how rich the fabrics. Lastly, the actual color and cut are determined by your future profession. This lets others know what you're going to be, and will help you find apprenticeships. This will only affect the six and seventh years as the rest of you haven't taken your OWLs yet. Your robes will just denote you as students." 

Ron considered the room. "Seventh years, your robes will take the longest to tailor, so you guys come up first. Everyone else stay down and try not to make any sudden movements till you turns." Scissors, needles, measuring tape, and thread appeared out of thin air. "Weasley clothing charms are kind of enthusiastic… and aggressive." 

Ron threw more hemming, fitting, patching, and dying charms that afternoon than his mother had in the last five years. It had gone surprisingly well though. Sure, there had been some minor incidents, like the Creevey brothers being mistaken for dishtowels by a laundering charm, and several Hufflepuffs losing a fight with a flock of out-of-control hemming scissors, but really it was nothing several strong healing spells couldn't fix.

That night Ron escorted the muggleborns into dinner to show his work to Draco and Pansy.

"Not bad." Draco looked entirely amazed. "I'm impressed Weasley. They don't look threadbaren, impoverish, or raised by farm animals. Who knew you had it in you."

"They'd all look much better if I'd used _my family's_ tailoring spells." Pansy noted.

"And as much as I'd like to see them all arrested by Aurors the second they step foot in Diagon Alley Parkinson, this will have to do. They aren't dark wizards. They shouldn't look like them."

"Some may be. We really won't know for a few weeks yet." Draco added helpfully.

"I'm not letting you turn them into You-know-who worshiping, deatheater spawn that…" Ron was interrupted as a Malfoy owl landed in front of Draco holding a very neatly addressed, very muggle envelope. He grabbing it before Draco had the chance and skimmed its contents.

"Yes!" Ron shouted happily. "Hermione's on her way." 


	9. Getting Granger

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's read or reviewed, I really appreciate it.

fudge brownies... mmmh.

posted: 8/17/04

---

**Getting Granger**

Ronald Weasley stood on the front porch of Malfoy manor knee deep in healing potions, gauze, and diagnostics spells. The Big Book of Wizarding Injures balanced in his arms, desperately reviewing spells for fractured blood cells.

"Really Weasley, she looks fine from here." Pointing to the bushy-haired witch getting off the Knight bus. "She's not even limping."

"She's just hiding the pain. She could have closed head injures page 37, ruptured corneas pages 72, or petrified organs pages 85 and 97!" Ron flipped through the book with increasing speed.

"Give me that." Draco removed the guide from his much protesting vice president as trunks, wooden crates, and an angry orange kneazle crashed to a halt at their feet.

"I'm sorry it took so long to get here! I had to convince the Knight bus driver to let me take extra items. Apparently it's illegal to apparate with unidentifiable items over fifteen pounds, and I had four. This was the only way. But I got your letter Malfoy and I'm all ready to start the reconditioning and adjustment program. Just give me a few minutes to settle in and get my bearings." Hermione announced, levitating her items and marching them into the Manor.

Draco turned to Ron. "You told her what's really going on here? "

"No... of course not. I just... encourage her to come." Ron tried to smile.

"Encourage how?"

Hermione unfolded a piece of parchment in her pocket, and practically glowed at Draco. "When I got this Malfoy, I was so happy to see that you'd turned over a new leaf. I didn't think you had it in you to be honest, but there it is! Do you mind if Ron hears it? I want him to know why I'm here if you don't mind."

Draco glared at Ron. "By all means Granger go ahead."

"To Hermione Granger from Draco Malfoy heir of the house of Malfoy,

I know we've had our differences in the past, but something has come to my attention that is so horrific that everything else can be put aside. This extends beyond muggleborn or pureblood status and I realize the wrongs it has caused."

Draco listened intently curious about what _he_ had written.

"I've decided to break with old traditions and welcome a new era of protection and equality into our world. My father's ideals about how things should be run are misguided and I'm working to make our generation see things differently. While I get the purebloods ready to be charitable and accepting, I need you to calm the others down and get them to trust us completely. As a muggleborn this should be easier for you. I feel you are well suited to help us teach them how to live in a world without constant belittlement and unnecessary servitude."

Draco simply nodded.

"Which is why I'm asking you to come to Malfoy Manor and become a member of SMITEM. Your role in the reeducation and training of these members of our society will be greatly appreciated."

"It goes on for another page, mostly well-meaning bigotry, posturing, and an extensive bibliography, but Ron that's the most important part for you to hear." She turned back to the blond with a brillant smile.

"And Malfoy, I'm so happy you're finally on board with freeing your house elves!"

"What!" Draco did a double take, grabbing the letter. Ron saw his opportunity to escape.

"I'll just go put Crookshanks in your room now shall I," and disappeared.

"How did you get 'free my house elves' from this letter, it says _absolutely_ nothing about freeing my house elves!"

"Of course not! If it had been intercepted that could have been disastrous. I entirely understand the need for secrecy. I gave the bus driver a fake name before leaving as well as a befuddling charm; my being here would be too suspicious. I know I could get into trouble for that, but sometimes the means are justified for a cause! Don't you worry Malfoy, I'll have your elves screaming for freedom by summer's end!"

"I don't want that!"

"Of course, I know you'd prefer to free them immediately. But I did some light reading, and only the head of house can magically do that. I doubt even Lucius 'I participate in the generational enslavement of defenseless creatures' Malfoy, can be tricked into giving out that many socks...although it is worth consideration."

"No it's not!"

"It will take some planning. But most importantly I'm very proud to be joining SMITEM, and I even made up a newsletter, just so everyone here can know about the latest developments. Here."

Draco looked at the Howler red piece of paper and it's moving title, feeling considerably more nauseous. _SMITEM: Several Movements Including Teaching Elves Modernism... your source for house elf news._

"Next week I'll add in an editorial and creative works sections... so your elves can express themselves and exercise their individuality. Do you think they'd be more inclined towards verse, short stories, or non-fiction entries?"__

"You want my elves to write poetry!"

"Only if they're so inclined. Dobby's contribution to SPEWs introductory brochure was quite inspiring. It was called 'Ode to a Dustmop'. I have it right here." Hermione cleared her throat to begin.

"Granger, will you excuse me for just a moment."

"Of course."

---

"WEASELY, PREPARE FOR DEATH!"

"It's not that bad."

"Not that bad? There's a hideous orange kneazle just waiting to 'mark its territory' all over my ancestral birthright, my luxuriously handcarved, ancestral birthright! I now know house elves write poetry, and of course, Granger's made it her life's goal to see me die by my father's hand."

"She has not."

"Her deception is masterful." Draco snarled.

"She's… just adamant in her believes."

"No she's severely delusional... somehow the muggles cracked that oversized brain of hers and..." Draco's eyes light up, and his expression changed. "That's it isn't it. No wonder you've been so desperate to get her here. You've been watching her disintegrate for years." Draco spoke in what he decided was an absolute revelation.

"What do you mean?"

"It's glaringly obvious now… There's barely enough time to reverse the damage."

"Damage?"

"Yes!"

"Now wait..." Ron was getting extremely worried.

"Don't worry Weasley, I'll just get her settled in, while you gather the others for a short meeting. You're too close to the situation to go in alone." He patted Ron on the shoulder and left.

"What situation!" Ron shouted after him.

--

As the purebloods settled in for the meeting, Draco strolled in carrying three trays of cookies, and an expression of absolute certainty. He handed out the trays and addressed his audience.

"Well, Granger's insane...she thinks she's a house elf…I blame it on muggles. " He nodded to himself, turning to leave. "Meeting adjourned."

"What? No she doesn't." Ron protested.

"Really? When I left she was on her way to the kitchens to commune with them. She seems intent on sleeping on the floor in there with them tonight. You'd think a full OWL in Arithmancy would prevent that sort of thing." Draco paused. "I'm suggesting long term hypnosis, sleep deprivation, and perhaps some of those electro shock treatments I've heard so much about."

"She's not that bad!"

"Weasley," Draco stared him down. "She thinks she's a floppy eared, meter high creature, that wears dishtowels and does windows. I think she warrants intense psychiatric counseling. We don't have the facilities for that so I'm letting her keep her delusions while it benefits our cause. If we can get her into a pillowcase for the court hearing, our case is sealed. She's forming a house elf care subcommittee by the way, and you and your sister are on it."

"No way!" Ginny shouted.

"Oh most definitely."

"She doesn't think she's a house elf." Ron sulked, biting into a macaroon.

"She made the cookies herself by the way, brought them with her from her muggle home. Quite good isn't it."

Ron put it down as if he'd just contributed to his best friend's continued oppression.

He shook his head. "A house elf."

"The possibility for rehabilitation is there. However, if she disintegrates much further, I see no choice but to put her down." Draco raised eyebrows at the shocked faces of Gryffindor. "For the good of the group."


	10. Help from Hermione

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form

**Help from Hermione**

The members of SMITEM woke to find their clothes not laid out, their baths not drawn, no slippers, and what looked like signs of a struggle. The path of destruction lead all the way down past the lower parlor, where they were meet with a sight too horrible to comprehend:

Draco Malfoy, flustered, frilly-aproned, oven-mitted, and covered in flour.

"If you think I'm going down alone, you're all sorely mistaken. Kitchens now!"

Those flour footprints were never going to come out of the carpets.

--------------------

Draco's powdery footprints led them all back into the kitchens. Shamefaced elves huddled together barracked in a comfortably arranged corner, covered in fluffy pillows, knit hats, red newsletters, and light snack foods.

Hermione glared a warning to an elf desperately trying to offer refreshments to the entering wizards from inside its knit prison. "I know it's painful for you to watch this and do nothing. But don't worry, I've read several behavioral psychology book and that's part of the growth process. Soon you'll be able to watch Malfoy fin for himself or any of the others. In fact, you'll be able to sit outside and willfully disregard even their most desperate plea for service. Now give me that teapot!"

"No! Please don't make Botsy do this!"

"It's for the sake of empowerment. Now I demand that you sit back down, drink your pumpkin juice, and enjoy your life of leisure!"

The cowering elf ran for the safety of an embroidered lap pillow. Hermione nodded to herself and turned to her new guest. "Now that the elves are comfortable, let's get started."

The pureblood wizards tentatively sat down at desks that must have been stolen from Professor McGonagall's classroom. Hermione readied herself for a long indept lecture on the history and social context of her subject matter including some theories on it's relation to potions and the current state of nonmagical relations...only to be interrupted by Neville Longbottom.

"Hermione these scones are kind of..." he tried to find a way to put it nicely, " um...well, they taste like burnt fish."

The others pushed their previously unnoticed breakfast food to the far corners of their desks.

"I suppose that was to be expected. Monitoring Draconis attempting to follow a recipe... in his own kitchen no less, has made me understand how severely deep we will have to drill to resolve the elf situation."

Hermione's tone became soft and deeply focused. "I'd originally assumed we could just give the elves some life skills and the problem would be fixed. But this isn't like a small cavity (easily fixed without causing much damage.) This situation requires a root canal. It's going to be long, drawn out, painful, and possibly involve sutures and uncontrolled bleeding.." She looked out at her panicked audience. "I apologies, it's important we stay on the subject at hand.

Welcome to Preparing Purebloods a morning series of courses dedicated to making you self-sufficient for when the great liberation of our horribly enslaved magical equals occurs. We'll start promptly every morning from now on at 6:00am giving us plenty of time without cutting into the other daily activities. If you'll turn to page two of the syllabus..."

Ron looked up at her from his 'raisin' scone. "We have a syllabus," indignation didn't quiet cover the tone.

"You will find the list of required reading as well as the list of not-so required reading and the list of additional optional reference books which will be absolutely essential for complete your average-sized nightly and much larger weekly homework assignments." The horror of their situation was starting to unfold before their eyes. Hermione seeing their expressions tried to calm the group.

"But don't be alarmed! This won't be simply a dry lecture class! I've planned daily discussions of the reading, hands-on projects, book reports, bi-monthly tests, and challenging pop quizzes, so that you can truly get the enrichment this opportunity deserves."

Ron wasn't sure, but he thought he'd just heard Vincent Goyle pass out behind him. Hermione continued on.

"Now Draconis..."

"_Stop calling me that._"

"Was kind enough to help work out the particulars this morning after I brought him..."

"_Kidnapped me from by bed._"

"Down here early..."

"_4:00am in the morning!_"

"To test the averaged elitist pureblood's ability to handle cooking."

"You mean strapped me into this absurd ruffled garment, locked my hands into these restraining mittens, and then pelted me with eggs, flour, and two so-called 'tablespoons' of what muggles call baking powder." Then he turned to Neville. "And my scones do not taste like fish! They're simply a barbaric muggle creation best made inside a dirty cave with hot rocks and grunting."

"Really Draconis..."

"_grrh._"

"That's uncalled for, though you do bring up an important point. The recipes I have are devised for a muggle kitchen which is why I brought these." Hermione stood before the group and spelled open several large crates in the middle of the room.

"What is that?"

"They're...hideous..."

"This is the Kenmore 9000 electric stove top, dishwasher, refrigerator, and oven set... your new best friends." She waved her wand and thirty pounds of paper crashed onto each desk. "Before you are copies of the manuals, safety warnings, and general high altitude use instructions!"

"They come with books!" Ron sounded outraged.

"Quite right. You'll find that these are not included in your light nightly reading assignments. However it would be best to familiarize yourselves with them all before tomorrow as each device is capable of exploding, smoking and massive electrical fires when misused."

Pansy's eyes flashed in relief. "Elct...elect... Malfoy manor doesn't have elctecticity! You can't use those monstrosities here."

Draco's hopes began to rise.

Hermione already in the mode to explain anything to people with no means of escape gladly answered. "I've adapted several magical cores, to run them effectively. This opportunity to teach you all may have come up suddenly, but I've been working on these things for the last few years... on the small possibility that something like this would occur. "

"The misuse of muggle artifacts office will be all over this!" came a voice from the back.

"First, according to article twenty-seven of the muggleborn inclusion act. Muggleborns are allowed to adapt muggle objects to work in the wizarding world, to ease their adjustment into this life, as well as that of their muggle families if they are required at some point to stay with said witch or wizard. Secondly, Malfoy Manor would hardly still be standing if aberration in magical energy were detectable by magical law enforcement. And finally, as far as I can tell, this is an underground movement, that has never registered with or had contact with the ministry at any point. Now is most likely not the best time to start. "

--

The look on Draco's face told Ron it was best to follow Draco's grain covered robes out of the kitchens mid-lecture. He caught up with him as he rounded the stairs heading towards the Smitem housing wing.

"As if I bloody care what a braising pan does. Most likely it destroys hand woven wyren silk robes five times faster than this did..."

"You know a few laundering charms would get that right out." Ron offered.

"Laundering charms are beneath a Malfoy. So much as uttering one would leave Malishious Malfoy spinning in his frame." Draco waved his arms as he entered his suite. "This, is illrevocably contaminated by manual labor as is that carpet and this doorknob. Nothing can fix _this_ but fire and a stiff calming potion."

Draco caught his first sight of the library that had exploded all over his, soon to be incinerated, veela hair wall to wall carpeting.

"Light reading my arse! What's all this?" Draco motioned at the third year sized stack of books crushing his slippers and threatening to knock over his now displaced night dresser.

Ron picked up a book list from underneath a toppled inkwell.

"Seven cookbooks, two on fire safety, and three on cleaning and sanitation. The next are on food allergies, and the last is a three foot essay assignment on the ethics of cooking and serving high calorie, high sugar foods and the related health concerns." Ron mumbled for a bit. "_This_ one is a journal so we can make nightly reflections on the plight of house elves and how it's affecting a break down of our social structure. She calls it a 'Book for self-reflection, understanding, and realization'."

Draco started at the book stack, shaking his head and mouth moving.

"..."

"What was that?" Ron put down the informative assignment sheet.

"...big haired... muggleborn... witches..."

"She really doesn't mean it this way."

"..big haired... muggleborn... witches..."

"Remember it's not her fault she's like this..."

"..big haired... muggleborn... _soon to be dead_ ...witches..." Draco stormed out the room barely missing cookbooks, parchment, and an oversized guide to utensil maintenance.

"I'm going to the Owlery to order some fresh arsenic. She can be gone well before anyone has to 'reflect' on my soon to be punished house elves or those metal monstrosities she calls 'a useful addition to any home'. We can either bury Granger in the west gardens or the lesser lake. My vote is for the gardens since if I see another elf in a knit scarf I want to be able to dance on her grave."

Ron tried to remind Draco of better ideas. "She's just overexcited. She'll calm down." Ron and Draco entered the owlery just in time to be hit by a Malfoy owl trying to head down the stairs.

"We shouldn't be receiving any post, what's this." Draco removed the muggle envelope from a put-up-on white owl named Ares. "From the desk of Bright Smiles Dentistry and orthodontic services. Dentistry?" Draco looked at Ron for some form of assistance.

Ron shook his head. "Hermione's parents are both dentist. Not sure what that is exactly, but it's something that muggles do for a living."

Draco unfolded the letter and read the formally typed contents aloud.

_Hello Dear,_

_It was so nice to receive your last letter. Don't think that you have to limit yourself to only ten pages or only three letters a day. Your Father and I can always send you more paper if you're worried you might run out. I've been telling all of our patients about you're joining the S.M.I.T.E.M society. Of course we can't explain it all to them, but we try our best._

_We're organizing everything you've sent into an entire set of notebooks, photo albums. scrapbooks, and personal profiles for the day in the future when you'll want to create a book about this experience and lecture about the history of this to the wizarding world.  
_

_We did find the list of all the society members along with the profiles of the academic strengths and roles in the organization fascinating. The pictures of the elves and muggleborns staying with you will be wonderful for the photo album. _

_We're considering sending letters to your Head of House to let her know how well Slytherins and Gryffindors are working together, the muggleborns living here, the fact that this Draconis Malfoy boy has put this all together. From what you've sent it's obvious that he will help you free all of these 'house elves' the second it is possible. He's obviously not one of these 'deatheaters' and will help you and that dear Harry boy, by standing against the 'Dark Lord.' Between renouncing Voldemort, saving his house elves, housing muggleborns, and getting along with Ronald Weasley, Draconis's parents should be very proud._

_Enjoy your time at Malfoy Manor. Just wanted to remind you we'll be off to the Surrey International Dental convention ( I've included the location and our hotel phone number on the next page.) So please hold your next letters till then, but feel free to call us at the hotel. Do bring the stove back by September dear. _

_Love,_

_Mum _

_P.S – Don't forget to floss. _

Draco's head spun with phrases like _I'd like to enter exhibit A into evidence_.

'"Malfoy, it will be alright."

"Alright...alright.. nothing is going to be alright again, and do you know why Weasley. Do you know why? Not only is there incriminating evidence of what we are doing here out in the public, not only are the names of our members exposed, not only is there photographic evidence of on the muggleborns we have here ... it's all in the hands of big haired house elf muggleborn witch-baring dentists!"

Eyes filled with visions of Azkaban, Draco went very still. The neatly written letter crushing in his hand into a remembrall sized ball..

"I'm going to go find Granger's muggles now..."

--

Ron barely caught up with Draco as he barreled down the stairs, crashed past a muggleborn, and stormed into the outside world.

"Maybe we should wait until you're...more stable."

"Oh no, I feeling _very _stable...merciful...benevolent...charitable...magnanimous."

"We could be arrested."

"Have you tripped over an Auror yet Weasley? No." With a pop, Draco disappeared in a puff of partially enriched, low sodium wheat flour. After a muffled coughing fit, Ronald Weasley followed.


	11. Dabbling in Dentistry

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Harry Potter series and am writing this soley as a fan. (thank you everyone who's read the story so far)

**  
**

**Dabbling in Dentistry – Chapter Eleven**

After storming into the convention hall, smacking multi-colored cheerful balloons out of his way, Draco Malfoy threw down his daisy print apron with all the terrible force of a pampered teenage pureblood. He pointed straight at the registration booth greeter with his feet squared and a full glare.

"Attention Muggle. My name is Draco Malfoy and I am positively superior to you in absolutely every way. Bring me the spawners of Hermione Granger or suffer needlessly!"

Ronald Weasley rounded the corner just in time to pull Draco back and drag him towards the exhibit hall. "What? It's a perfectly valid threat. Stay right there you baked good eating, flour user! Your questioning isn't over..." drifted from his disappearing form.

--

The 35th annual Surrey dental convention and expo was going swimmingly. Tooth shaped balloons and miniature toothpaste samples lined the walls. A sea of dental lab coats filled the wide corridors, which is the only excuse for why two robe-clad pureblood wizards had gone completely unnoticed using only a semi-folded newspaper, a tooth shaped welcome map, and a complementary tote bag.

Draco mumbled continuously as they entered the convention. Giving threatening glares to attendees and booth vendors alike.

"Well, you're getting calm...er" Ron noted.

"What I'm getting is appalled." Draco said, taking in the smiling molars, happy face stickers, and endless bowls of brightly colored candy.

"These dentist have a catastrophic sense of interior design. It's repetitive and well beyond tacky. Longbottom could do better than this hideously blinded. Their obsession with this smiling molar motif is cultish at worst, single-minded at the very best." He said while rummaging through their totebag. "And why would anyone hide this much waxy string in a tiny little box?" Draco sneered as he continued pulling more and more green minty floss from it's container.

Hands full of string, Draco took the place in as a whole. "It's no wonder Granger went over the edge."

---

After an hour of searching for big haired, know-it-all, elf lovers, Draco was coming up short.

"This place is half the sized of Azkaban and all muggles look alike. I say we yell Granger's name and grab the first two that look up." Draco suggested.

Ron flipped over their complementary tooth shaped map, looking for a better answer, and was greeted by the events schedule. "Bright Smiles dental has a listing. They're giving a presentation on 'traditional dentistry essential techniques' in fifteen minutes. We can get them then."

Satisfied with his discovery, Ron went to popped a yellow candy in his mouth only to have Draco stop him.

"Dear Merlin, don't eat that...it was made by muggles! Muggles have put their hands all over it. It could be infested with rats. "

"It's not big enough to be full of rats."

"They could be very small rats." Draco whispered emphatically, "and they could have the Plague. Give me that."

After divesting Ron of a stock pile of peppermints, smiling lollipops, and assorted multicolored candy balls, the two arrived at the presentation arena.

The small stage was bare except for two extremely bookish muggles, a big projector screen, and a comfortable looking reclining chair. Dozens of blue plastic chairs filled with white coat clad, enthusiastic, note-taking dentist. Ron and Draco casually tucked into a corner by a free fluorine treatment contest form box.

The bookish man with medium brown hair stepped forward. "Hello, I'm Paul Granger and this is my wife Janice, we are the proud founders of Bright Smiles Dentistry and educational learning center. Today we are going to discuss the fundamentals of our proud profession. For some of you this will be a trip down memory lane. For others," he scanned the room for students, "just getting your feet wet, so to speak, this should be a highly educational and deeply enriching presentation. Dear, if you'd make yourself comfortable." He motioned to his wife, who laid down in the padded chair.

"Gallons! He lectures just like Granger. I say he finds a way to work in 'servitude', 'degradation', and 'saute pan' at least five times."

"You know Malfoy, Mr. Granger never struck me as the type to be a crazy tyrant." Ron continued as Mr. Granger set up the projector for better viewing. "What if he's not the bad sort of muggle. I mean how could he be as bad a Harry's uncle?" He turned to Draco. "Malfoy, are you even listening."

Ron looked up to find Draco looking on in opened mouthed horror at the stage.

_"No we simply cut the nerve here..."_ Ron looked up at the projector magnified image, mind frozen in horror.

..needles

..drilling

..bleeding

..drilling

..bleeding

"Wait. Dentists are a form of doctor! W..with stitches... and the bone saws!" Ron shouted as he jumped out from their hiding place. Draco dragged him back with the force of one saving someone from an oncoming truck. "Think Weasley! Do you want to be killed?" then hissed "...we're surrounded by doctors! Doctors bore Granger." Draco finished with a final shutter.

_On stage the sound of buzzing metal continued._

"Drills! Harry's uncle sells... drills."

"Well obviously he sells them to dentists. Bet he likes to watch as well. Sick muggle."

"_Now we just stanch the bleeding.."_

"And that is how we successfully preform a root canal with double bypassing." Dr. Granger happily helped his wife out of the chair. "Thank you dear for leaving that one especially for the conference. That extra impaction variation was quite lively."

Mrs. Granger attempted a smile though the novican and gauze.

"_Mor Wilcm Daar_."

"Next, we were planning to use general anesthetic and show you a live wisdom tooth removal, unfortunately our daughter was called away suddenly." Dr. Granger mentioned sadly. "Just the right age for one too. But one must look on to future opportunities." He said brightly.

Ron's last illusions of Hermione's sanity and mere eccentricity vanished in a fog of lab coats and shiny metal objects.

-----

As they walked backstage, doctors Granger and Granger were confronted by a freckled redhead in dueling stance.

"Hello young man, interested in the proud profession of dentistry are you?" Mr. Granger stepped forward. "Oh, you're one of Hermione's friends, aren't you. Richard. No, no Ronald."

"Dear it's Hermione's friend Ronald."

"_Wello teer..."_

"Stay where you are you light shining, candy baring, tooth mutilators!" Ron stepped back and fired a stupefy only to have Mr. Granger grab his wife and dodge behind a giant toothbrush cut out.

"Hermione said you were a bit sensitive about your full name, but you shouldn't take it this seriously!"

"Come out and fight you nerve cutting, drill users."

"This is highly inappropriate. You're in danger of expulsion!"

Stupefy dodge

"Nothings worth risking your academic career!"

"_Ne's myght Wonilt!_"

Ron tried again, only to be forced to dive as the now flying toothbrush cut out and a sensibly heeled size nine woman's shoe came flying past his head. He turned to Draco. "Why aren't you helping me?"

Draco, helpfully hidden behind a stage ladder, yelled: "They ran through the rusted door there. Best pickup the pace Weasley. The shoeless one is fast."

--

Ron only had to follow Paul and Janice so far before the effects of type three novican, a badly laid out alley, a misplaced soda can, and Draco hurling an abandon sensibly heeled size nine woman's shoe, felled Hermione's mother.

Paul Granger stopped and yelled. "Don't hurt my wife!"

Ron snorted. "Like that isn't the cauldron calling the dementor black! Who put stitches in her!"

"He's right! Surrender now or suffer deservingly!" Draco yelled. "What? I put _my_ hand on something that came off a muggle's foot. They have to surrender!" Draco ended his argument with two well aimed stupefy spells.

"Well, that's settled" Ron breathed. "Help me check them for tiny sharp torture devices!"

Draco riffled through Mr. Granger's pockets, coming up with a button, some dental floss, and his wallet.

Draco flipped it open. "Dear Merlin, Granger's hair was even worse as a child. They even put a shiny fence in her mouth to hold back those giant teeth of hers. Her heirs are doomed forever." Draco added conversationally.

Draco and Ron returned Grangerless to a clueless crowd loudly applauding the new crown and bridge making technique being presented on stage.

--

"Time to go back then." Ron

"Not yet, " Draco holding Mr. Granger's identification card. "There's still the matter of files, letters, journals, biographies, photos, and scrapbooks! Muggle homes await."

Draco casually walked out of the convention. "That house of toothpulling, scone making, scrapbookers falls tonight." Ron gave a last look to the horrors they'd seen and followed.


End file.
